


Working Things Out  -aka- The Delicate Dance of the Happy Tentacula

by psyfic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyfic/pseuds/psyfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are hints of dark magic and professors begin to go missing at the castle less than a week before the reopening of the school. Will the remaining school staff and an old friend be able to figure out what's happening?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Things Out  -aka- The Delicate Dance of the Happy Tentacula

* * * 

"Perce! Has that report from St Mungo's arrived?" 

Percy Weasley placed the cup of tea he had brought to the Minister on his desk. 

"No, sir."

"Kingsley, please. Kings is fine. I've told you, Percy." 

The affable Minister sat back for a moment to sip at his tea and sigh his satisfaction, before picking up his quill to start yet another letter. It was the most rest Percy had seen the man take since he'd been appointed Acting Minister by what remained of the Wizengamot after the war. 

"It's habit, sir. I respect you and it wouldn't do for anyone to overhear informality." His response was so rapidly and smoothly spoken it was clear young Weasley had said it more than a few times. 

Kingsley looked up for a moment before shaking his head fondly at the earnest expression on his assistant's face. 

"Tell me, has your father said anything regarding the school?"

The young man's shoulders straightened as he stood to his full height and he sniffed, making the Minister hide a smile. 

"My father does not, nor would he, discuss confidential Ministry matters at the dinner table."

Shacklebolt's smile stretched out in full. "Did I say anything about a dinner table, Mr Weasley?"

Perce's face turned a peculiarly pale shade of mauve, but he merely replied, "No, sir. You're right, sir. I just assumed you meant to ask if he spoke out of turn at home."

"No." Kingsley sat back and stretched so prodigiously his chair creaked. His voice was mild. "I assume a father and son who both work in the Ministry for the good of our world might occasionally share confidences. That's all."

Percy relaxed marginally before muttering, "He hasn't spoken to me about his assignment."

Shacklebolt frowned slightly. "The school opens in less than a week. I devoutly hope no news is good news, however..."

Percy nodded. "Would you like me to check on his progress, Minister?" 

"Not right this minute, tomorrow is soon enough. If he needs more time for his survey, tell him not to hesitate. The Headmistress and I can delay the opening of the school by a few days for the safety of the students easily enough."

"Very well, sir. I'll tell him." 

"Oh, and check on Mr Ollivander's progress, as well, if you would." 

"Mr Ollivander?"

Shacklebolt nodded. "I requested he examine the wands abandoned on the battlefield. Those found to belong to students who fought to protect the school are to be returned to their families. The rest... I should like a record of all dark spells cast, for use in the upcoming trials."

"Yes, sir. I understand." 

Percy looked momentarily uneasy and the Minister abruptly recalled that it was possible one of those wands cast the very spell that had killed his younger brother. Percy's tone did not convey his feelings, however, as he straightened, preparatory to stepping out of the office. 

"I'll go to the school tomorrow morning, Minister, and report on their status directly." 

Shacklebolt smiled and nodded at his aide. "Good lad." 

He noted with satisfaction that Percy's expression brightened at the gentle praise and that he walked with a lighter step as he exited.

* * * 

_"Well, we managed to get this far undetected."_

_"Maybe we should have stayed in the office."_

_"Again?"_

_There were no further words spoken in the corridor, but a sound of stifled pain echoed along the passage..._

* * * 

Garrick Ollivander lifted his head from the magnifying glass through which he was examining a wand as the soft murmur of voices down the hall began to grow louder. 

'I'm telling you, it's the oddest thing.' 

Ah... Arthur Weasley - ash, nine and three-quarter inches, embossed handle, dragon heartstring core.

'I believe you, Arthur, but could you slow down? My legs aren't what they used to be."

Garrick brightened at hearing his good friend Filius Flitwick. Filius carried a wand he knew well, but had not made; Filius had attended Hogwarts using a deceased uncle's wand. His uncle had been from Cameroon, and his wand was made of Bubinga wood, ten and a half inches, with a polished gnarl demarcating the handle from the shaft. The core was, or so Filius claimed, a Tebo hair. Ollivander had examined it once, briefly, but wished he could examine it more thoroughly. He made a mental note to ask his nephew to enquire of the African Ministry about the possibility of obtaining a bole of Bubinga wood and opening discussion with an animal husbandry official there about the possibility of obtaining hair, teeth or scales from magical creatures that naturally shed them. Perhaps he might be able to import the remains of one that had died and examine the magical properties within it.

"Sorry, Filius. I forget."

"I'll take that as a compliment, my boy."

Garrick smiled at that and sat up straighter, just as the two men stepped into what he had come to think of, unofficially, as the Wand Room. Really, it had been a still-standing room for staff conferences that Minerva McGonagall had assigned him while he carried out the task the new Minister had requested of him. While the Minister had made the request months ago, he had been so debilitated by his months of imprisonment and torture that it had been only recently he had felt up to undertaking the task which awaited him. Minerva had also assigned him quarters at Hogwarts while he completed his work. 

His store was unusable for the work, as it had been destroyed by the Death Eaters before the war and was still uninhabitable. Up to now he had been enjoying the hospitality of Molly Weasley's Aunt Muriel while he recuperated and his nephew and great-nephew were rebuilding and, more importantly, restocking the store. Plus it had been pleasant to be in the company of someone of his own generation. He made a mental note to write and thank her for her care and ask if he could, perhaps, visit her again.

"Garrick, old friend, I hope we're not troubling you?" 

"Not at all," he replied, studying both men.

Flitwick wore a brocaded silk dressing gown, not unusual given the hour, and carried his wand in one firm hand. This was habitual by now, given the months of repairs on the unsafe castle structure most of the current residents had supervised or seen to. A ready wand to protect oneself or others from falling debris was all that had saved a number of them, not to mention being able to lighten an object, levitate it back to where it ought to be perched, and affix a sticking charm to ensure it remained in place. 

Arthur Weasley, on the other hand, wore a red Ministry cloak over his usual jumper and trews. He had been at Hogwarts assessing the repairs and surveying the castle for anything suspicious or abnormal. Now he nodded to Ollivander. 

"Sorry to bother you, but I'd like your expert opinion." 

Ollivander folded still stiff and occasionally aching fingers together and nodded. "Go on."

"I found traces of dark magic along one corridor, in the Prefects' Bath and on the stairs leading to the Headmaster's office. They were not present when I first checked that area last week." Arthur sighed. "While it's possible I missed them in my first sweep, I still have to catalog them and, if possible, what made them. The Resi-meter can't determine what caused the magical traces or when they were made, it merely indicates they exist."

Arthur held up the small device resembling a child's top which appeared to be made entirely of brass.

"Thus far most have been easily accounted for by the presence of scorch marks denoting a stray spell or stray hairs, for example, that turn out to be from a werewolf. I even found a patch that reeked of dark magic in one of the girl's bathrooms that merely turned out to be old traces of troll saliva. However, I've been unable to account for these new traces. I was going to ask Severus if he knew of any means of determining how residual dark magic was created before I reported it to Minerva. He's the only DADA expert in the school at the moment. My son, Bill, has extensive experience and will be teaching DADA, as well as Transfigurations to the first through third years, but he's seeing to his wife and new baby for the next few weeks." 

Ollivander smiled. "Fleur finally gave birth? My felicitations."

Arthur beamed and Flitwick cleared his throat. 

"Perhaps you could ask Bill when next you see him. Severus is not all that well. I heard Madam Pomfrey grousing at breakfast about him not taking one of his assigned potions. He should really still be at St Mungo's, according to her." 

Arthur seemed perturbed. "I'd no idea. I only heard he had returned to the school last week, and I assumed he was fit enough for it. Though now that I think of it, aside from a sighting one breakfast, I've seen neither hide nor hair of him since I've been here."

"I suspect that's less to do with his health and more because he's avoiding everyone."

"Yes, well, Severus has always been a guarded man," noted Arthur.

"Hardly surprising and probably worsened given the feast The Daily Prophet made of his memories!"

Arthur and Garrick were taken aback at Filius's burst of temper; it was quite unlike the genial Professor. 

Flitwick explained, "The Prophet reporters kept dogging him while he was in St Mungo's. Quite disgraceful! I overheard young Harry Potter telling Minerva this at the start of summer. They demanded access to his room as he still lay unconscious. Fortunately, the hospital staff gave them short shrift and booted them from the facility. When he arrived at the school they followed him from the gates to the steps, pestering him with incessant and impertinent questions. Minerva had to ban them from the castle, although she could not keep them off the grounds entirely."

Ollivander murmured, "I imagine the tale of a man who spent his life mourning a lost love is nigh irresistible to the Prophet."

"Don't you believe it," Flitwick avowed. "He wasn't pining for lost love. I know Severus. He felt guilty; miserably guilty he had inadvertently led to the death of a good friend. It's what led him to Albus Dumbledore and Hogwarts, and Albus trusted him enough to ask him to assume still more guilt and Severus followed through. The guilt of having to kill such a good man, coupled with the prior guilt? Of course he was funereal and short of temper. He spent all that time trying to atone - and succeeding, by my lights - so there."

Arthur sighed. "Well, whatever his reasons, I did try to consult with him. He didn't respond to my knock and I called out at his door, but there was no answer." 

"He might have been asleep," Garrick pointed out. "When I enquired as to his absence at the breakfast table this morning, Madam Pomfrey told me that he easily tired and required more rest than normal as he's still recovering from that filthy snake's bite." 

Arthur flinched and Ollivander lifted a brow, watching him with curiosity until Weasley mumbled, "I'd forgotten. Quite unforgivable of me, having been bitten by that snake myself. I can attest to just how nasty the symptoms are. Mind you, I received treatment straight away. Ron said he and Harry and Hermione all thought him dead, though, so the poor devil lay in his own venom-tainted blood until well after the battle." 

A sort of reverent silence fell over the room before Ollivander spoke in a wistful tone. 

"Pomona's apprentice told me the beast's head magically discorporated. What a waste, as the fangs might well have made formidable wand cores." 

Filius and Arthur stared at him long enough that Ollivander nearly blushed. Instead, he rested his elbows on the table and steepled his aching fingers cautiously, asking, "What exactly is your enquiry, Arthur? I know no spells to determine the origins of residual dark magic." 

"Since you're a wand expert, I was hoping you might know a means or method of determining if the magic was cast by a dark witch or wizard or if someone simply used a wand steeped in dark spell casting."

"That could leave a trace," agreed Flitwick. "But wouldn't such a wand belong to a dark witch or wizard?"

Arthur's expression was momentarily grim. 

"Enough witnesses have told me how they lost their wand during the battle and appropriated one from someone fallen. The fallen belonged to both sides."

He turned back to Ollivander. "Either way, it would help my own determination of whether the residual magic poses a risk to anyone."

"Of course. There is no spell that I know about, as I said, but there is a method to determine if residual magic present is from a spell or a dark creature. Very old, very simple, but effective." He sat back and sighed reminiscently. 

"Go on, man." 

"It requires a small venomous Tentacula cutting." 

Flitwick seemed highly intrigued. "I do believe I've never heard of this method!"

"It's quite old. My great-great-great-grandmother used it to purify homes for the newly married in her day. I learned of it at her knee, when she used to regale us with tales of her doings."

"I thought venomous Tentaculas were dangerous, but not dark," Arthur observed. 

Ollivander smiled. "They aren't. But they are drawn to dark magic like moths to a flame. They quiver when in its presence, but perform a sort of dance, you see, a different dance in the presence of magic from a dark creature or a dark spell."

* * * 

_"Did it work?"_

_"Too soon to tell."_

_"How much time left if it didn't?"_

_"Did you want to try to make it to the first floor again?"_

_"Nothing ventured, nothing gained."_

* * * 

Ollivander carried the tiny plant cutting, amused at the way it tried to twine about his fingers. Flitwick walked behind him and Weasley ahead, holding their wands aloft in what, he felt, was an excess of caution. 

"It was here," Arthur suddenly stated, stopping and pointing at a stretch of corridor unremarkable in appearance. He pulled up the resi-meter and placed it, tip to his palm. It straightened and then slowly began to spin, glowing slightly. He plucked it up with his other hand and looked at his companions as he rubbed his palm against his chest. "See?" 

"It really is too bad Filch hasn't finished restoring the paintings," Flitwick groused, looking about. "They'd be useful right about now and could tell us if anyone had been by here, or if anything odd had occurred." 

"Yes, well, chance would be a fine thing. Now, Garrick. Do your worst." 

Ollivander stepped up to one side of the corridor Weasley had waved his wand at and held the tiny pot up to the wall. All three watched with great interest. 

The plant simply sat in its pot, evincing, if anything, a sense of plantly boredom. They sighed. Ollivander stepped to the other side of the corridor, pressed the pot against the wall there. 

The Tentacula began to quiver and they waited with anticipation, but it merely continued to tremble in its pot. 

"Definitely a trace of dark magic of some sort," muttered Ollivander. "But is it a spell?"

"It seemed strongest here," Arthur murmured, pointing out an area of the corridor where a recess cast a deep shadow. 

"You know," Flitwick said contemplatively. "The thought occurs that this makes an excellent hiding place. If a Death Eater hid here during the battle, perhaps cast a spell against someone? It could be the trace you sense." 

Arthur nodded, but did not take his eyes off the Tentacula, shining a _Lumos_ to watch it in the nearly pitch dark recess while Ollivander neared the wall. 

The Tentacula's quivering grew stronger and stronger until they thought it would vibrate right out of its little pot and Ollivander had to clutch it very tightly, indeed. 

"Confirmation," Arthur said, pursing his lips. 

"Fascinating," said Filius, his sharp academic's mind already considering possible study of this phenomenon. 

"Definite dark magic trace, but it could be as Filius suggested - nothing inimical to people now. I sense no malice in the area."

"Is that a talent of yours? Sensing the intent of others?"

Ollivander clutched the pot to his chest, thin fingers being thrashed by the unhappy Tentacula. His voice was hushed and tremulous. 

"It's a skill wand makers require. We must serve all wizarding kind, don't you see? We serve those dark and light alike." He looked only at the plant he held as he spoke. "When a young witch or wizard comes to me for a wand, I cannot refuse the ones with a dark taint. I must serve them to the best of my ability." 

Arthur's expression changed and he held a hand out, even as Filius moved closer. Weasley touched the elderly wandmaker gently on the arm. 

"I didn't mean anything by it," Weasley insisted. "Truly." 

"No one here is judging you, Garrick, old friend," Flitwick added, patting his leg briefly. "Healers and mediwitches and mediwizards must take vows promising to serve all regardless of their status. It is not unknown."

Ollivander nodded after a moment, but continued to look rather ashamed. Arthur squeezed his arm before nodding and saying, "Could pressing it against the wall here clarify matters? Or is the poor thing too panicked to sense much else?"

The wandmaker nodded. "It might work."

He stepped up to the wall and pressed the pot firmly to it. 

To their surprise, the plant went still, leaves still tensed. Then it began to bob up and down as its leaves swayed side to side. It did appear to be dancing. Moreover, Filius noted, the plant seemed _happy_. 

Ollivander suddenly spoke. "It's not a spell, Arthur, but a trace of magic from something living."

"You mean creature or a person?" Weasley stood straighter, glancing about with wand aloft. 

Garrick watched the little plant bobbing, weaving and appearing to snap its leaves like fingers. 

"There are elements of both. To be precise, a magical being. The dark magic appears to stem from the creature, though. The merest traces. Such as a Veela. Not inimical." 

Flitwick huffed. "Also not belonging in a school that is about to begin term!"

"It may well have been drawn by the battle and activity and remained behind," Arthur mused. 

"It is also possible we are sensing two beings - one a human, the other a magical creature," Garrick admitted with a sigh, pulling the happy Tentacula away from the wall and stroking it with thin fingers to help keep it calm.

"A dark magical creature - with a witch or wizard?" Flitwick now looked deeply concerned. 

"Weak traces of dark magic you said, perhaps a student befriended a pixie or the like?" Weasley looked hopeful.

"Pixies aren't dark creatures," Filius insisted.

Ollivander held up a hand. 

"This method cannot always differentiate between dark magic and merely what is, for lack of a better word mischievous intent. Such a scenario as Filius postulates is entirely possible. We cannot extrapolate with just this single datum. We need more evidence."

Arthur nodded. 

"Let's go check the Prefects' Bath."

* * * 

_"Thank Merlin for drying spells."_

_"Well, the Prefects' Bath wasn't my idea."_

_"Did I say it was?"_

_"Testy, testy."_

_..._

_"Dammit."_

_"Again?"_

_"My apologies. This is not what I had in mind."_

_"You've already apologised. The pixies are well out of the cage. Now what did you have in mind?"_

_..._

_"Bloody hell. We'd best get to it again."_

_"Very well. I'll cast the spell this time."_

* * * 

Ollivander stopped before they reached the door to the Prefects' Bath, studying the plant. 

"What is it?" 

"The Tentacula is quivering."

Arthur eyed the plant and nodded thoughtfully. 

"Ah, Filius!" 

The three men turned at the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice. She approached, holding her wand aloft, a _Lumos_ spell illuminating her way.

"Is there something I can do for you, Poppy?" 

She glanced at Arthur and Garrick briefly, before looking to Filius. 

"Minerva is missing!"

Arthur straightened at this, his expression showing concern. 

"How do you come by this hypothesis?" Flitwick's modulated tone was both soothing and authoritative. 

"I went to see her in her office, to ask her if she would please speak to Severus tomorrow about not taking care of himself. She's the only one who has been able to hold a civil conversation with the insufferable man since his return. I mean it's bad enough he had himself released early from St Mungo's, but if he thinks he can handle a full load of classes when he's still recovering--"

"She wasn't in the office, I take it," Flitwick interrupted smoothly. 

She shook her head. "And she's not in her quarters. As you know, she decided not to move into the Headmaster's quarters."

Filius nodded thoughtfully. "Did you try a location charm?"

Poppy nodded now. "Yes, but it spun my wand about to no purpose. That's when I decided to find you, seeing as you're the deputy Headmaster, and report her absence."

"Now I wonder," Arthur suddenly intoned, putting his palm out flat and laying his wand atop it. " _Reperio_ Severus Snape."

As they watched, his wand shuddered and then began to shift about, first pointing away, then toward him before spinning slowly in a circle. He pursed his lips as he plucked his wand from his palm and sighed. 

"As I half suspected - we have two people missing then. First Severus, now Minerva."

"And traces of dark magic in the halls," murmured Ollivander, suddenly appearing rather wan and frail. 

"The Aurors never did catch all the Death Eaters after the battle," noted Flitwick grimly. 

"Death Eaters?" Poppy looked about and then back to Filius. "Whatever shall we do?"

Flitwick pursed his lips and suddenly waved his wand with a flourish. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " 

Silver blue light coalesced into an enormous Saint Bernard which sat before him expectantly. 

"Fetch Pomona and Horace. Tell them a possible crisis requires their attention." 

The dog barked once and then ran off, leaving wisps of curling silver-blue sparks behind. 

"We don't know for certain," Flitwick said. "I'd rather be safe than sorry, however, given school is to start in less than a week."

None argued with his assessment.

* * * 

_"Bloody hell..."_

_"Easy now, easy."_

_"I wish it were. This is hellish. I'm..."_

_"This is no time for recriminations. Let's finish before someone catches us, for Merlin's sake."_

* * * 

The venomous Tentacula appeared to be in raptures, bobbing up and down and swinging its leaves nearly as soon as they had entered the room. 

"Definitely more than a trace of dark magic," Pomona Sprout said grimly, looking about in the corners as if expecting to see Death Eaters hiding behind the columns. She had been apprised of the situation on arrival outside the Prefects' Bath. 

"And now Horace is missing, as well," Poppy noted fearfully. "Whatever is happening?"

Arthur shook his head. "Now, now. Let's keep calm heads."

"Agreed," Filius affirmed. "All we know for certain is that Severus went missing between tea time, when Pomona saw him in the Staff Room with Minerva, and when Arthur went to consult with him around 9:30pm. Minerva went missing some time after dinner at 8pm and twenty minutes ago. Horace went missing... when was the last time any of us saw him?"

Pomona declared, "I spoke with him at dinner. He told me he was planning on reading. Something about a new book he planned to thoroughly enjoy - his own words."

"I spoke with him right after dinner. He wanted some Pepperup Potion; thought he might be coming down with a bit of a cold," Poppy said. 

"And I saw him at quarter to nine, when I was heading down to the dungeons. We didn't speak for long. He said he was taking a constitutional, walking off dinner a bit," noted Arthur. 

"He did eat rather quickly," noted Poppy.

Ollivander startled them, despite his soft tone. "I saw him at perhaps nine of the clock. We didn't speak. I had looked up, about to stretch my shoulders from having been bent over my magnifier for so long when I saw him pass the room." 

"So Horace was last to disappear and it's anyone's guess if Severus or Minerva disappeared first," noted Flitwick. 

"The question is - what do all three have in common?" 

Arthur's question made all of them frown before Pomona lifted a finger and waved it. "Their quarters are all on the same floor." 

Flitwick considered this and Poppy nodded. He finally nodded, as well. 

"You're right. With Minerva not using the Headmaster's quarters, but no longer Gryffindor head of house and not using those quarters, either, and Horace refusing to live in the dungeons and Severus using the DADA master's rooms, they're all on the first floor," Flitwick mused. "Well done, Pomona!" 

Sprout blushed, even as she demurred, "Oh, Filius. I'm hardly a student anymore." 

"Credit where credit is due, my dear," he intoned, giving her a little head bow. "Let us head to the first floor. We'll start on the west end and slowly and methodically work our way toward the teacher's quarters, see if there are any traces of dark magic and if we can determine from whence they originate. That might help us figure out who or what is responsible for these disappearances."

* * * 

The only sound in the dimness was a desperate sort of panting and gasping. If anyone had heard the sounds, they might have grown concerned, but they were the only two in the room and had cast powerful charms indeed to ensure their privacy. 

"N-nearly... th-there..." Severus muttered, sounding as if he was in pain.

A slender, but firm-gripped hand slid behind his head and drew it down. 

Minerva gently kissed his jaw and sweated cheek before sliding to his lips where she gently nipped at one even as he opened his mouth wider to gulp in more air. 

Suddenly he stilled, straining and an almost agonised sound escaped him as he climaxed. Minerva gentled him through it, conjuring a cloth to wipe his face and chest before vanishing it as he slowly crumpled beside her, panting onto her shoulder as his head rested beside her on the pillow. 

After a moment, she stroked his hair back from her face and murmured, "Better?" 

A strange sound, almost a sob escaped him and she patted his back, admitting, "I'm not complaining, mind you."

"I'm so so sorry, Minerva." His voice was muffled. 

"Again? I don't mind, my dear."

Severus lifted his head, an expression of misery on his craggy face. All he said, however, was, "Maybe I do."

"Come to me." She slid her arms about him and pulled him to her.

He came willingly, groaning with equal measures of pain and relief as she situated his straining flesh and pulled him into her. 

"Gods, Minerva..."

"Mm... they can see to themselves. See to me, if you would, my lad."

He groaned again and slid a hand up and over one of her small, but wonderfully warm and resilient breasts. She arched into his touch. 

"Go on." 

He gently squeezed and then plucked at the distended nipple, making her gasp and move faster beneath him. He complied, hips thrusting faster as he played with her breasts, gratified at every pleased sound she made. 

"Now," she bade him.

Holding himself on an elbow, he slid his other hand between them to where they joined. He slid a finger alongside her swollen clitoris, stroking it over and over as they moved together. Minerva clutched at his back, arching and pulling and he buried his face in her neck, kissing it and gently sucking on the firm columns of flesh that connected to her clavicles. Minerva froze, thighs clenching around him and he gently bit and sucked her neck where it joined her shoulder. 

He continued to move as she soared, hearing the long gasps she made as she shuddered to completion, and closed his eyes to enjoy the feelings. He could scarcely believe it was happening after so very long and their shared history and the ugliness of the last two years.

First came many weeks of visits at St Mungo's, once he'd regained consciousness. They had sparred and shared and argued and laughed and even, once, although he would never admit it outside the privacy of this room, they had wept together. It had happened after one of his numerous horrific dreams when he'd woken confused and afraid and she had taken him in her arms, much as she did now, and held him tightly to her and soothed his pain with her words and her hands and many gentle kisses. It was her steadfastness and those gentle kisses that had made him rethink their relationship and look at his colleague as more than a mere co-worker. 

"Oh, Severus..." 

The sultry, deeply satisfied tone made him feel as if he were going to erupt and he moved a bit faster, spurred on by the powerful feeling stemming from deep in his lower belly to his bollocks which tightened and were tightening yet more. 

He cried out as orgasm struck, a familiar wrenching sensation accompanying the euphoria, and he briefly wondered if it was a good sign or bad, but soon was wearily befuddled in the aftermath, trembling above her. 

"There now. I could tell that was a good one."

He groaned and she patted his back. "Just rest, dear. You've earned it."

"No," he mumbled into her neck, before shutting his eyes tightly on the suddenly strangled feeling of his throat. He swallowed hard and gathered his strength to pull free of her.

She held him to her, though, as he began to pull away and held on until he relented. 

"There now, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Accidents happen to the best of us, after all."

He groaned. "It's pathetic." 

Minerva finally shoved at him until he slid to her side and pointed a finger at her newfound lover. 

"It is nothing of the sort. I admit I was rather taken aback at first, but once you clarified it was all a mistake--"

Snape winced. "It wasn't."

"Come again?"

"I took it deliberately. Willingly." 

Her sharp blue gaze studied him expressionlessly for a long moment, and then she ordered quietly, "Explain." 

He clutched the edge of the coverlet as if to use it for a shield before admitting, "Once we had decided we should use this weekend to try... seeing how we would be together, I brewed Erotic Energy Elixir. I asked Horace for the ingredients on the pretext of wishing to keep my hand in, so to speak, and he agreed, so long as I gave him a vial or two."

"But for Merlin's sake, why?" 

He closed his eyes and spoke through gritted teeth. "It's been many years, Minerva, for me. I've not... _entertained_ a lady in quite some time. Having been ill recently and still not feeling at my best, I didn't wish to embarrass myself and scotch my chances at... wooing you."

"I see."

He looked at her then, a beseeching expression. "Believe me. It wasn't supposed to have such a powerful and overwhelming effect. I made a mild dose, I swear it." 

"Oh, Severus." Her tone was slightly exasperated, but her expression was fond and her hand stroked his gently before moving to his bare chest. Her forefinger traced arabesques along the pale expanse and around his small nipples.

"It's really quite flattering." Her expression was a bit dreamy and to his surprise, she suddenly giggled like a schoolgirl.

"What?" He appeared confused and she laughed lightly before kissing him. He gave in to it and sighed when she pulled back to lay her head on his chest, throwing her arm around him. 

"I haven't romped in the school's corridors since I was a girl in tartan Plimsolls. I certainly never utilised the Prefects' Bath in that manner, either. Well, not with a partner!"

He relaxed minutely at this and considered what she said. It was true. He had never done such things, either, when he had been of an age where it might have been excused as high spirits and hormones. 

"Both of us so stubborn, so proud, and so utterly lacking in confidence when it comes to private matters - well mated wouldn't you say?" 

He grunted in mild amusement. "Quite so after tonight." 

"Ach!" She mock-swatted him and then stilled. "Severus. I am well aware of my age and the fact many wizards prefer a pretty young witch to a wizened old crone. What you did -- truly, it's quite flattering." 

"Minerva." He sighed again and held her a bit closer to him, relishing the warmth of her against his bare skin. "I--" 

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a loud and strange sound from the hall outside his rooms. 

Both of them hurriedly jumped up, Minerva with wand in hand, which she swiftly used to bundle them into dressing gowns she conjured without thought, before hurrying out of his bedroom and to the sitting room, where his heavy wood and iron door was reverberating with some form of offensive magic. 

Snape stepped to the door by her side. "You hex them. I'm opening the door."

She did not argue, sharp blue-eyed gaze staring at the door. Minerva merely nodded, wand held up steady and ready beside him to bring down any foe.

Severus felt his heart fill with great fondness and warm devotion before holding his own wand out and yelling, " _Patefacio!_ "

His door thundered open and several figures nearly fell in. Minerva and Severus held their wands against them until they realised it was a group of their colleagues. 

"What in Merlin's name?" Minerva stepped up, frowning. "Pomona? Filius? Arthur? What is the meaning of this?" 

The three in question shuffled their feet, even as Poppy and Ollivander stepped in. The elderly wandmaker held a potted plant that appeared to be doing a strange sort of belly dance. Poppy's eyes widened before she sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank the stars!" She stepped up and assessed them both. "But what is this? Both red in the face -- Severus, you look as if you've been over-exerting yourself again, and you, Minerva -- really have you no shame? Bothering a clearly sick man?"

Minerva and Severus looked a bit guilty as Poppy continued and the rest all relaxed, taking their colleagues' expressions as admission of guilt. 

"You were rowing again -- don't deny it! I can see it in your faces."

Minerva cleared her throat. Her voice was mild.

"Actually, Severus had something come up most urgently, and I had to give it my undivided attention. Thankfully, we were able to settle the matter."

Severus began to cough and Poppy conjured a glass of water for him. "There. No, drink it down. How many times have I told you that you need to keep your throat moist while your tissues are healing?" 

Minerva ignored this minor drama as she continued. "I admit we were in a rather heated discussion when suddenly we realised someone was trying to enter the room."

Flitwick nodded. "Well, I, for one, am quite grateful you did not curse us all on the spot."

"Now see here," Pomona suddenly interrupted. "A silencing spell and a do-not-disturb charm would not have stood up against our joint _Pulso_."

Ollivander's voice was tired and reedy, but emphatic. "Quite. And there is still the matter of the dark magic traces, Filius."

"Always be leaving behind dark traces - it cannot be helped." 

All eyes turned to the sour voice that growled this reluctant admission from the corner of the room. 

"Kreacher!" 

Arthur frowned at the elf who merely scowled back, looking at each in turn as if simultaneously afraid they would hit him and readying to hex them in exchange. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Kreacher lives to serve Master Harry Potter." The old elf looked to Severus and then back to Weasley. "Master Harry Potter asked Kreacher to protect Professor Snape sir. Master Harry Potter says Professor Snape sir protected Master many many times in the past and he means to return the favour. Many dark wizards wish Professor Snape sir great harm and Kreacher has been protecting him from hexes and jinxes and poisons. Kreacher has been protecting Professor Snape sir since he was helpless in his sleep at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Kreacher protects Professor Snape sir's location from everyone at all times and watches over Professor Snape sir to protect him from harm." 

A visible look of relief seemed to pass through all of the gathered with the exception of Snape, who appeared uneasy and still slightly red in the face from his coughing fit. 

"So I take it you went to see Minerva, Severus," Flitwick said thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. "Then you went to the Prefects' Bath?"

"No, actually, I went to the baths first. I felt the need of a... therapeutic soak," the younger man murmured repressively, his voice a touch raspy. "When I finished, I recalled I had needed to speak with Minerva quite urgently about the Head of House duties." 

"Then from her office, you both went to your room."

"Yes," Minerva replied. "Severus needed a potion for his throat. Our discussion had left him quite sore."

Flitwick nodded with satisfaction. "There's your traces, Arthur. Being from a dark wizarding family, Kreacher is quite correct in that he was exposed for many years to dark magics and spells. He's thoroughly steeped to the point he leaves traces wherever he goes." 

"That is correct, Professor sir. Kreacher is proud of his dark heritage."

"Yes, well, mystery solved then! Except for Horace," Pomona noted. 

"Horace?" Minerva looked puzzled. 

"Yes, he went missing when both of you did," said Flitwick. "And he was not under Kreacher's protection." 

"No, he's not missing," Minerva insisted. "Horace told me earlier he had a date tonight. In London. A widow of his acquaintance."

"Date?" Several voices at once spoke. 

"Well, that old devil," Sprout declared. "I shall never let him live it down. A new book he planned to thoroughly enjoy, my foot!" 

"And Pepperup! I bet I can guess why he needed _that_!" Poppy looked disgusted. 

"Well, since the matter has been resolved, I would suggest we all take our leave and get some rest," Filius suggested. He muttered under his breath in _sotto voce_ , "And I should really send another Patronus telling Horace to disregard the last!"

"Yes, well, good night everyone! I plan to have a lie-in tomorrow," said Pomona decisively. 

"And I have a letter to write," murmured Ollivander. "A very pleasant night to you all."

A chorus of good-night's took place with people leaving the room until only Poppy and Arthur remained. 

"I'd like a quick word, Minerva," the mediwitch admitted. 

Arthur quickly added, "And I'd like a word, as well, Severus."

The two pairs separated with Minerva stepping outside with Poppy. Arthur watched them head out and turned to Snape. 

"Um, this is about your recovery."

"Oh?"

"Yes, if you would recall, I was also bitten by that blasted snake."

Snape nodded. "Go on."

"Well, when I was taken off the anti-venom and began taking the circulation serum, it made me randy as a hare."

Severus blinked and Arthur gave him a pained smile. 

"I just wanted to suggest that once you're taking it, it might be best to take time off alone, get in touch with an old fling, perhaps, or maybe visit Madam Linseed's Manor?"

Severus's voice was a bit tight as he reluctantly enquired, "Just how randy do you mean?"

Arthur's pale face reddened, but he answered, "Molly kept saying I'd been de-aged to 17. I didn't have the heart to tell her it was twice as bad as then. I was just grateful my older sons weren't living at home and our last two children were at school at the time. The first few days were the worst. After that Molly helped me morning, lunch, and bedtime and I managed the rest of the surges on my own. Poor dear. Quite the trooper, my Molly."

"Yes, well, thank you for the warning," Severus muttered. 

"No problem, old chap. I'm just glad I had a chance to speak with you. I hadn't seen you and I didn't wish to disturb, but I also didn't want to write it out in a letter - a bit awkward. Anyway, this little mystery tonight's turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Now I've been able to warn you and I can write up my report to Kingsley tonight and send it off in the morning."

They both turned as Poppy stepped back into the room with Minerva behind her, a now calm expression on her face. 

"If you're done?" She waited for Arthur to nod and smile before turning to Severus. "I already told Minerva, now I'm telling you -- you are on medical leave for what is left of the week. No duties of any kind and if there is something urgent related to your post, you will inform Minerva or Filius and they will assign someone to see to it."

He looked rather peevish, but nodded and she continued. "Now I'm going to order the house elves to bring you a full breakfast -- none of your usual plain coffee and toast until you've reached a healthier weight. They will also bring your circulation serum every morning and I better hear you've taken all of it and are eating your meals, and you -- Minerva, I already told you that you have overworked yourself these last two months and need to rest. It's bad enough none of us were able to have a proper holiday this summer thanks to the repairs! So you are to rest in this last week leading up to the school opening as much as possible. Light duties; delegate them as needed. More sensible mealtimes with a proper nosh not just a hastily grabbed sandwich, and an early bedtime with plenty of sleep. You will see me if you need a sleeping potion."

Minerva nodded equably. "That sounds quite sensible, Poppy, and appreciated. In fact, I think I shall take a page from Pomona's book and have a lie-in tomorrow."

"Excellent." Poppy relaxed and smiled at Arthur. "Then we'll be on our way. Good night."

"Good night, Minerva. Severus."

The two said good-night together and watched as mediwitch and Ministry worker stepped out of the room. 

Snape turned to Kreacher who almost seemed to cower. 

"That meddling, insufferable--"

" _Severus_."

He finally sighed. 

"I do wish Potter would have asked."

"Yes, well his heart's in the right place, and clearly there is need if there have been attempts already. Speaking of which, Kreacher, what have you done with those who tried to harm Severus?"

Kreacher straightened. "Master Harry Potter said Kreacher was to transport them to the Aurors and tells them Kreacher was under orders from Master Harry Potter, friend of the Minister, to defend Professor Snape sir, and tells them or shows them what the dark wizards had done. The dark wizards were to be tried, quickly and quietly, so they were."

The silence was uneasy before Snape spoke, his voice a bit grim but resigned. "When next you see him, please thank Mister Potter for me."

Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher would be honoured. Kreacher lives to serve Master Harry Potter heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared. Snape had the distinct impression he had merely made himself invisible. He said nothing, however, merely closing the door to his sitting room with a wave of his wand. 

"Well... a night of revelations." His voice was a bit subdued and Minerva sighed. 

"Yes. Quite."

He turned then and looked at her. She was wearing a green tartan dressing gown and he abruptly realised she had fashioned him a rich, heavy silk crimson dressing gown. It even had embroidered S's on the pockets... in gold. 

"If they didn't figure out we've been shagging, they are the stupidest lot--"

"Now, now. Most people accept the simplest explanation their mind says is logical, and Poppy gave us a simple and plausible out, Severus."

He nodded, looking a bit dour. Minerva drew closer. 

"What is it, Severus?"

He looked at her. "Is that what you want, Minerva? An out?"

She stilled. "Mayhap I should ask that of you, as well?"

He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out before admitting, "I know I'm not every witch's fantasy."

She considered this and said staunchly, "I should say not!"

He glared at this and she smiled. "I'm glad of it, for quite frankly, I mean to have you all to myself. Well, for as long as you are interested, that is. You're quite the man, Severus Snape." 

He relaxed and demurred, "Let's see how you feel now the effects of the damn potion have worn off. Arthur has warned me, as well, of a... hormone surge that occurred once he was taking the circulation serum Poppy wishes for me to start. It's rather similar in effect to hear him tell it."

"I see."

He looked down and murmured, "Really, without the help of potions I've nowhere near that sort of... drive."

"Ach! And a good thing because, quite frankly, my dear - I couldn't keep up." Minerva stepped up and smiled at him. "It's lovely right now to simply find an energetic wizard in his prime that is interested in me, but I'm really hoping for one that I can slowly and methodically come to terms with. Where we're comfortable with one another and have our own interests besides. With the occasional bit of mad shagging, of course."

She watched as his dark expressive eyes considered this, and then gleamed. 

"In that case -- take me. I'm yours," Severus dead-panned, but with a small devilish grin. 

Then to his surprise and gratification, Minerva did just that.

* * * 

E N D 

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End file.
